Yuritalia exchange 2010
by The Char
Summary: Drabbles of Fem!DenNor and Fem!GerIta for the yuritalia exchange.   Obviously, implied yuri. Don't like, don't read and so on.
1. Chapter 1

**{{A.N. **These were for the yuritalia exchange on deviantart. They didn't turn out as well as I would've liked them, but well.. yeah... huh... writers block smacked me in the face and it seems I can't really write genderbended characters. Still, here they are. The proper main gift is on my deviantart. First is some Fem!DenNor drabbles, second fem!ItaGer.

I've still uploaded them in case anybody wants to read them.}}

**Fem!Den/Fem!Nor **

**{{ Setting: **As an extra note, all of these are set assuming the Nordics are all sailing on a ship together. As vikings? Pirates? Airship pirates? Perhaps. Am I historically accurate? Probably not, I didn't write it to be historical. I hope it's still enjoyable, not for historical merit, but for the fic itself :)? }}

**Dragons**

"No."

"Please, Norgey, just look at it, it has these tiny paws see?"

Norway was promptly greeted by a paw to the face, a scaley one, with tiny little claws scratching his cheeks. She pushed him off, glaring. Somewhere, she should have known. When they had drifted up the Nile the other had gotten very excited at the moving logs. She herself had gotten a headache.

So when Denmark inquired with much excitement what the things were, Norway had just shrugged her off.

"Dragons." She had said.

She didn't want to answer anymore of her questions and wasn't particularly eager to explain what a crocodile was. At least Denmark would know what a dragon was. With a bit of luck he would be able to amuse himself for a few hours by watching them.

But it never crossed her mind that she would run to some black market and buy a baby crocodile.

And that was how she stood in front of her now, a somewhat grumpy crocodile hugged against her breasts, bandages scattered over her fingers where the crocodile had retaliated against her affections.

Also naked. Both of them were, really. Since the animal had taking a liking to Norway's long hair while they were in bed. Which brought them to the current situation.

"We're not keeping it."  
"But it's a dra~agon."

"No."  
Denmark leaned in to poke her cheeks, bringing the crocodile much to close again. "We could teach it how to breath fire! Come on Nor.~"

The poking insistently continued.

"... "

A little harder by now.

At this point Norway seized his wrist, holding it tightly, and more importantly, away from him. "If you don't get rid of it you sleep on the deck."  
"But I'm the Captain~"  
"..."

"Norge..." Denmark was pouting at this point, but there wasn't something in her face that Norway didn't quite trust.

"Nor~ " She shuffled closer. Norway stepped back.  
"..." Norway had a pretty good look at her cleavage now, with the way the other leaned forward. Most of the view was sadly blocked by the crocodile though.

"Norgey~"  
"What." She said, wanting the other to get to the point and preferably a meter away from his current position.  
"Are you on your period again?~"

Denmark awoke the next morning on the deck with half a concussion and no dragon.

=========================  
**Cooking**

"What are you doing?" Finland asked, leaning over a bit.

"Cooking," Denmark grinned.  
"Ahn... " Finland watched her curiously. "Why? Sweden cooks usually."  
"It's for _my wife.~"  
"Norway?" Finland blinked, ignoring the insinuation she was Sweden's wife.  
"Yeah, got cramps or something, so I'm being the best lover ever and cooking her breakfast." Denmark boasted proudly. The top buttons of her shirt were unbuttoned against the heat emanating from the food, showing of gratuitous cleavage.  
Finland stared at the meal, it smelled good, but for breakfast? And on top of that...  
"Captain?"  
"Yes?"  
"You're roasting the meat."  
"Sure am."  
On the ship."  
"Yes."  
"On an open fire."  
"Yes?..."  
Finland smiled. "Alright, that's all I was wondering, Captain."  
Denmark grinned. "Norway is going to love this.~"

**Valkyrie **

The sight took what little breath she had away. Long, white hair waved alluringly to her, the tips nearly blending in with the blank void beyond. She was close, beautiful, inviting her into Valhalla then, caressing her cheek with one hand.

Those lips, on which she could not quite focus, spoke slowly to her.

"_Den."_

She fell the slight tug on her shoulders, trying to focus more clearly on the figure before her, grinning confidently, but voice failing to produce too much sound. ".. Hey."

The figure stood over her, watching, perhaps waiting for her to pass on then. She finally closed her eyes.

"You know, Nor.~" Den grinned at the other, excited.

Norway didn't reply, but turned her gaze towards Denmark, which was enough indication of her attention as any.

"When I was out of it, you know?" Denmark shifted up in the bed, ignoring all the bandages she was wearing.  
"You're going to hurt yourself again."  
"Ssh, let me finish. I saw a Valkyrie." She smiled knowingly, eyes twinkling with delight.

"She looked like you. "  
"Did she?" Norway repressed a faint blush on her cheeks, looking away, wondering if Denmark noticed her when she sat by the bed waiting for her to wake up.

"Yeah, nearly the same."  
"... Nearly?"  
"Yep," Denmark grinned. "Her boobs were much bigger."


	2. Chapter 2

**Fem!Ita/Fem!Ger**

"Huh, Italy?"

Italy shivered faintly in the cold, holding tightly onto a pair of plastic bags, fresh bottle of champagne sticking out of one of them. Her lips still carried a warm smile and she lifted her arms briefly to hug Germany, only to remember she was carrying the plastic bags. However, considering she had already leaned forwards to hug the other momentum dictated she simply flopped a bit against the others ample breasts.

"Germany! ~"

Germany gently removed the cold Italian from between her breasts, picking up some of her bags, sighing deeply. "What are you doing here?"  
"I thought I'd come over and celebrate New Year here." The brunette smiled brightly, already skipping inside.  
Germany held her back by her collar, shaken her head. "What about your sister, I thought you were celebrating together."

"Ve, we are, I invited her over too."  
"Then where..."  
"Somebody had to protect my poor sister from you potato bastard." South Italy stepped, seemingly out of nowhere, into the house, her cheeks tainted deep pink from the cold winds, muttering to herself but not really making any attempt at hiding his displeasure. "At least Spain would've been a little warm, but no, see where she wants to go."

"Sorella," The younger sister pouted. "We stopped by Spain to see if she wanted to come, she wasn't even home."

"About that," Germany started.  
"We could've still stayed home." The older sister promptly interrupted.  
"But you should spend New Years with people you like, ve.~"

"At least that wine bastard isn't here."

Germany scraped her throat. "Actually."

"West? Is that Den?" Prussia appeared in the doorway, shirt unbuttoned far enough to be considered beyond indecent, not looking all to sober anymore either. She grinned when she spotted the sisters. "Good going, sis." The albino held out a bottle towards the sisters. "Joining the party in my basement too?~"

After South Italy made it clear in colourful language that they had absolutely no intention of joining any parties in, especially not in basements, the Italies did stay over in the living room. They were comfily seated, despite all the noise from down below.  
Much of the time leading up to the New Year was spend by the older sister grumpily walking around the living room and glaring at Germany, occasionally stomping her boot down hard to complain of the noise downstairs. When her boot was met by the sound of a glass bottle getting thrown up from down below, she had enough. Also, seeing her sister with the potato bastard was becoming all but bearable.

"Neh, Germany, shouldn't you check downstairs?" Italy asked, subconsciously allowing herself to sit closer now her sister was absent.  
"Trust me, it's really better not to."  
"Ah," she replied, getting up to pour them a glass of champagne then. "It won't be long till the new year now." She dropped down on Germany's lap, leaning back against the other without much regard towards the quickly growing blush on the blonde's face.  
"I- I suppose that is right."  
"How long has it been now?" Beneath them she could hear her sister yell angrily, then the sound of laughter.  
"About 96 years now." Germany replied promptly, shifting a bit.  
"Not long till 97," Italy smiled cheerfully.  
"Yes." Germany replied, getting somewhat flustered of the close proximity of the Italian. Already giving up on shifting, awkwardly putting an arm around her waist, in a sort of make-shift hug.

"Three more years to go."  
"Till what?"  
"Anniversary.~"  
"W-we're not even married." Germany's blush grew across her ears.  
"Not married, but we've known each other, ve? I wonder how you'd call it, I don't think you go higher than 90th yet." The other rambled on, seemingly oblivious of the others' embarrassment.  
"Double gold would be logical."  
"But boring! We should call it a pasta anniversary, and we could eat extra pasta, ve?~ Granite and oak are so... untasty and unfestive... and so is double gold."  
"I guess we could call it pasta then." She sighed, but a shy smile slipped on her lips. "Countdown is starting."

10... 9... 8... 7.. 6... 5...  
They both raised their glasses.  
4... 3... 2...  
"Happy Ne-" Germany started.  
1.

Her champagne glass fell to the ground, the drink spilling between the creases of the wooden floor. Against her lips, the Italian was now pressed, kissing her deeply. Germany tightened their embrace for that moment, shyly kissing her back, still blushing heavily from the initial shock.  
Outside the window, the fireworks exploded. One floor below the yells got louder. But little did either matter as they passed into the new year.

South Italy stormed up with some fury, causing Germany to quickly break the kiss, watching the cursing older sister. "That's lipstick." She uttered quietly out loud.

The Italian glared at him, feeling his cheek for a bit, then cursed louder, throwing a pillow at both of them. "Bunch of perverts!" Without as much as another word she stormed out. "I'm going to sleep!"  
"Ve... Sorella..." North Italy sighed, leaning against Germany slightly again. "Guess we'll sleep on the couch tonight."  
The blonde rubbed her temples, eyeing the door through which South Italy had stormed out.  
"But I don't mind," Italy continued, hugging Germany then. "I'm quite comfortable here too."  
Germany blushed, looking with a bit of concern at the door as well, closing his eyes then to listen to the sounds from below, finally nodding. "I am too."


End file.
